Indiscretions
by Angel16
Summary: Trip and T'Pol cross that line.


Indiscretions

By: Angela Koerkel

Rated: R, strongly suggested adult material

Synopsis: Trip and T'Pol cross that line.

Disclaimers: I obviously don't own them since the people who do would never dare to go where I'm heading with this one!

Spoilers: Through the Soong Arc

Notes: Okay, here's the deal, the other day in the forum a lot of people seemed pretty interested in an adultery fic. Now, being a happily married woman who's never so much as cheated on a spelling test in grade school, I wasn't so sure about doing this, but I figured, "What the heck!" So, let me know what you think.

BTW, this piece makes the assumption that somewhere, sometime, off-screen, T'Pol has told Trip all about her Trellium-D nonsense.

Here goes:

She seemed suffocated by the darkened room. Her quarters shrank in around her until there was no space left to breathe. T'Pol lay awake in her bunk, restless. Frustrated at her lack of sleep and uncomfortable in the emptiness, she tossed and turned relentlessly. The scent of her meditation candles clung to the air adding a spicy aroma that filled her lungs with each shallow inhalation, but even their familiar smell did not bring relaxation.

Since her return to Enterprise following her mockery of a marriage, she had been disjointed. It felt as if her skin were too tight. She did not recognize herself in the mirror. The woman who looked back out at her was whole, while she was missing an integral piece.

After the Orion kidnapping, she had been prepared to speak with Trip about continuing their relationship. He had believed it none of his business how she had spent those remaining two weeks on Vulcan. She, however, thought it imperative that he know she would not sacrifice herself physically to the man she must now legally call 'husband'.

Over the course of the Augment situation though, he made it clear that he would not be willing to ignore her marital status. And that was when the true sense of loss hit her. She could no longer have him as a lover or as a friend. She had not slept since.

XXX

Commander Tucker rolled over yet again on his standard issue Starfleet bed. He stared at the ceiling in the dark and wished for ship's morning to come just so he'd have an excuse to get up. Exhaustion racked his body. He had barely slept in days, ever since his last conversation with T'Pol.

It replayed in his mind and he saw again the look of anguish on her lovely face. God, he could shoot himself for having been the one to cause it. But it couldn't be helped. When she had first come back on board, he had made an effort to be her friend, but quickly realized that it just hurt too damn bad. So, he decided to distance himself and the first step was literal avoidance. Then, when called on it, he quite coldly and logically explained why their relationship had to end.

And, so here he lay, a prisoner of his own making. Doomed to never sleep again, but to lie awake in silent agony longing for the warm comfort of a woman he would never have. 'Geesh, I gotta get some sleep, I'm startin' to think like a damned poet!' he thought.

XXX

It was nearing two-thirty in the morning, by ship's time, when Trip finally gave up and climbed out of his bunk. He headed for the bathroom where he surveyed his image in the small pane of mirrored glass. 'Christ, I look like hell.'

He splashed some cold water on his stubble-covered face and went back to the main room of his quarters. There, he rummaged in a small pile on the floor until he recovered his favorite sweatpants and a t-shirt. Disregarding the wrinkles, he threw them on and combed his fingers through his hair.

In his stocking feet, he padded out into the corridor, his sleepy eyes slowly adjusting to the higher lighting level. As he rubbed a tired hand over his haggard features, he rounded a corner and ran smack into the one person he'd been mentally running away from.

"Oomph!" he exclaimed as the air was forced from his lungs. Reaching out he grasped her arms to avoid being knocked to the ground. "Whoa, there, T'Pol. Ya' should slow down around the curves! If ya'd run into Hoshi like that, she'd be in Sickbay for a week." Catching his breath, he continued, "Where's the fire, anyway?"

Embarrassed by the situation, the Vulcan merely backed away from his touch. Although she craved it more than oxygen, the sensations it evoked were overpowering, particularly since she had no outlet for them. "I apologize. I was taking a walk."

"At this hour?" He looked at her for the first time and noticed that she was wearing violet colored pajamas and a matching robe over them. His gaze traveled up and down her body again as if to confirm what it was seeing. Trip raised his face to hers. "And wearing that?" He crossed his arms and began to smirk in anticipation of her answer.

"Commander," she began, a modicum of strength forming behind her words, "what I wear and when I walk is none of your concern. You made that quite clear the other day." Her hurt was bleeding out in the form of anger. She backed up further from him. "Now, if you will excuse me?" Turning, she moved to go around him, but he blocked her.

Reaching out, Trip put up an arm to block her path without actually making contact. "Wait a minute," he said. He allowed the frustration he felt to show through. "Can't we at least be civil? I mean, just a few weeks ago we were..." He let his voice fall off as her eyes met his and he saw the spark of passion there.

"We were what?" she whispered.

He angled his head as if to say, 'do I really have to say it?' At her continued doe-eyed silent entreaty, he acquiesced. "Involved."

Sighing, she raised her hand to his shoulder in order to draw strength from the contact. "I am sorry, Trip. The past weeks have been difficult and even more so the last couple of days." She looked down slightly before meeting his gaze once more. "I've not been meditating or sleeping well, in fact not at all."

"T'Pol, ya' gotta meditate. I know things have been rough, but..." He reached up and clasped her hand in his. Then, he took in her attire once more and a realization hit him. "What were ya' doin' goin' out like that?" he asked softly.

Bowing her head in near shame, she admitted, "I was on my way to your quarters. I had hoped to convince you to participate in neuro-pressure tonight." She looked up at him again and instead of the disgust she had expected to find, found sympathy. "I know of no other way to achieve the relaxed state needed for meditation. And although most Vulcans can go for days without sleep, I have limited my abilities in that regard thanks to my Trellium addiction. If I do not meditate and sleep soon, it will begin to affect my duties."

Trip nodded. Without another word, he led her back to her quarters, hand in hand. Once there, he guided her to the soft pillows that lined the open area. She sat comfortably on one while he moved around the room preparing the candles and dimming the lights. When all was ready, he joined her. Her face spoke volumes as she tilted her head slightly toward him. The love and appreciation he saw there was reflected back from his own.

They moved through the postures in easy silence, not needing to speak to understand each other. T'Pol sat with her bare back revealed to him and he placed his hands along the proper neural nodes, applying just the right amount of pressure until he felt her go limp under his touch. His fingers stroked gently over her delicate skin, enjoying the warmth emanating from her. He closed his eyes as he continued and imagined that she was his lover once again.

Tears rolled freely down her cheeks as Trip worked behind her. They were tears of loss and sadness, but also of love. She had longed to feel his hands upon her flesh again and now that she had it, she was unable to stop the raging fire that was building deep inside. It wasn't merely lust, that was all too simple an emotion to squelch. This inferno was born of something much more all encompassing. It permeated every cell of her being. She wanted this man, heart, body, mind, and soul; more than that though, she ached to give herself to him in the same respects.

He completed one posture and together they moved on to the next, both lost in their own sorrows. He knew he should not be allowing his mind to picture her lying beneath him, making those soft cries of passion as he loved her. He also knew that there was no way he was going to stop those images from coming, since that was the only way for them to be together now.

As their positions changed again, they sat facing each other. He smiled at her, wistful, as he reached out, his thumbs wiping away the tears the still flowed. "What're these for?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head, unable to answer. Instead, she drew a ragged breath and pulled her shoulders up straighter in an attempt to regain her control. He didn't buy it for a minute and the smile fell from his face. "I have missed you," she said at last.

Trip was taken aback by the straightforward, emotional statement. He withdrew his hands and folded them in his lap. They sat there a heartbeat while he contemplated a reply. "I know," he said softly. "I've missed ya' too."

"Can we not find some way," she started.

"Please, don't ask me to do that, T'Pol," he interrupted. "Don't ask me to break yer vows. Can't ya' see how hard this is for me? Do ya' know how much I want to take ya' in my arms right now and kiss ya'?" He closed his eyes briefly and breathed deeply. When he opened them again, he looked straight into her soul. "All I've thought about since we started this tonight is taking ya' over to that bed and makin' love to ya'." He laughed an unamused laugh. "I bet we'd both sleep pretty damn good after that, wouldn't we?"

She knew he was being sarcastic. His sense of right and wrong was very strong. If they were together tonight, his conscience would not let him sleep anymore than he currently was. However, she couldn't help the tingle that ran through her like an electric current at the image. "Trip, that has been my thought as well." She reached out and placed her hand along his cheek. The rough stubble scratched her palm as she rubbed it across it face. He closed his eyes and leaned in to her. "I do not want you to have regrets, but know that if we chose such an action, I would not."

His eyes flew open to meet hers once more. "How can ya' say that? I mean, I know the reasons for yer marriage weren't the best, but yer still married. How can ya' not regret cheatin' on Koss?"

"Trip, you mistake Earth values for those of Vulcan. Koss does not expect fidelity from me, nor I from him. Our union, such as it is, is for one reason alone and it has nothing to do with affection. It would be as if two businesses merged in order to gain a better financial standing." Her hand continued to caress his face and she moved fractionally closer to him with her upper body.

He shook his head quickly, as if shaking off a mental fog. "I still don't know," he said, wavering. He wanted her so badly, physically and emotionally. He'd never loved someone so much before and if there was a way to rationalize what he knew they were moving toward, so much the better for his conscience.

T'Pol moved her fingers across his mouth in a gesture of silence. Then, she replaced them with her lips. Their eyes remained locked throughout the kiss and she tried to convey all of her love to him.

She kissed him, softly at first, probing for permission. It didn't take long for Trip to grant it. He leaned forward and placed his hand at the back of her head, guiding her in for a longer, more intense kiss. As they parted, he glanced down at the floor. "Are ya' sure about this?"

She lifted his chin to meet his gaze. "I am. Are you?"

"Hell no, but what choice do I have? Ya've got my heart, woman. I've tried to deny it, or at the very least avoid it, but there it is. And, if ya' say that this is okay with your customs, then who am I to argue?" His lips met hers again.

He drew back slightly and gazed at her. "I love ya', ya' know," he said, his fingers brushing gently along her cheek. "I know ya' probably don't feel the same, but I wanted ya' to know. This isn't about sex for me, it's about you."

She never wavered as she said, "I know, and I do love you, too, Trip."

The last time they'd made love, she had guided things and they had taken a distinctly passionate course. This time, although there was still plenty of passion, Trip took the lead and T'Pol was all too happy to follow. They undressed each other slowly and moved to the bunk.

Afterward, they snuggled up together for what was left of the night.

XXX

When Trip awoke the next day, he was alone. In a slight panic, he checked the time on T'Pol's computer and realized he was very late for his duty shift. As he fumbled around the room seeking out his rejected clothes from the previous evening, he found a padd on top of his shirt. The message light blinked obnoxiously at him until he activated it. The simple text read:

_Trip,_

_I spoke with Dr. Phlox this morning and explained that you had not been sleeping again and that we had performed a successful neuro-pressure session very late last night, but that you might not be available for several hours. He, in turn, spoke with Captain Archer and obligingly recommended you take 24 hours recovery time to make up for lost sleep. Therefore, the Captain does not expect you to resume duty before 0800 tomorrow morning._

_Rest well, beloved._

_T'Pol_

Trip smiled to himself and headed into the bathroom for a shower. As he passed by the mirror, he paused. For a moment, he frowned as he glanced at his reflection. He expected to see an adulterer staring back at him from the glass, but all he saw was a man hopelessly in love.

The End


End file.
